"Lee Killough - The Leopard's Daughter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Killough Lee)

"Buffalo," she whispered, "if you would have me save my people from the monsters, give me your
strength."
The wrist writhed, slipping still more, slowly and inexorably straightening, despite Jeneba twisting hard
with both her hands.
Sister, the voice of the leopard whispered in her head.
"Be gone!" Her grip slipped still more. You must become the leopard's daughter. The wachiru
writhed beneath her. Jeneba gritted her teeth as her fingers began to tremble in fatigue. She could hang
on, she told herself. Leopards dragged full-grown bucks up trees. One half-leopard should be able to
control a half-man. Her chest heaved with her effort and sweat streamed down her body, yet the wrist
continued to slip through her grip.
Sister. "All right!" She must... not... let... go! She must do anything to hang on, even listen to the
leopard. Desperately, she reached inside, searching for whatever made her the leopard's daughter. What
had breeding given her... night sight, hearing, a sharp sense of smell? What else? She tried to imagine
how it might feel inside a leopard skin, moving on all fours, racing after game, clamping her jaws on warm
throats, tasting blood.
And suddenly she felt it all. Exultation exploded in her. This was being leopard? She had known
moments when her body felt obediently under her command, but... this! It was fierce joy, in being alive,
pride in pure existence! Was this what Sia Nyiba saw in her lover?
Jeneba felt molten in her grace, sinuous and lithe, body flowing in sustained perfect obedience to her
commands. She rode the writhing back with new and confident balance. The wachiru could have broken
loose and she could recapture him in a heartbeat, she felt sure.
Grinning, she crooked her fingers. Her nails dug into the halfman's leather-tough hide. The slipping
stopped. Jeneba applied new pressure, twisting the arm, forcing it farther and farther, until the shoulder
joint grated and popped with the strain.
The wachiru screamed, "I yield!"
Jeneba purred in his ear, "Order your people to cut mine loose."
Minutes later Mseluku and the warriors were all free. They lost no time leaving the wachiru village.
Jeneba marched up front with her uncle, settling her tsara around her again, fingering her talisman. She
would have to acquire a new one, she decided, something to reflect her tie to the leopard.
A brother and sister warrior edged up behind her. "We salute you, sister. It doesn't matter that you're
less than true Dasa; you have a Dasa soul and you're a Dasa hero."
Jeneba jerked around indignantly toward them. Less than Dasa? What conceit. She was more than
Dasa! But she smiled a moment later in amused resignation. "Thank you."
They would never understand, she knew. After all, until the leopard burst free in her, had she not also
thought nothing could better being pure noble and Dasa? But let them treat her as Dasa and a hero; it
would be a pleasant change. She would secretly enjoy her new pride in being the leopard's daughter, and
after they reached Kiba and Tomo Silla had been dealt with, she would tell her mother everything. Sia
Nyiba could appreciate it.
Published by Alexandria Digital Literature. ( http://www.alexlit.com/ )

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